Good Old J K
by ExceptionallyAverage
Summary: When reality starts splitting, the Doctor must save the authors and actor of all our favorite fandoms from their very own stories. In this first episode, JK Rowling is sucked into the Potterverse and must be pulled out before she reaches the seventh book which she hasn't yet written
1. The Girl Who Lived

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their niece on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed. Yet Joanne Rowling was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. Her Aunt Petunia was about to wake her.

"Up! Get up now!"

Joanne rolled onto her back and tried to remember the dream she had been having. It had been a good one. There had been books...

"Are you up yet?" Her aunt demanded.

"Yes," She said, shoving on her glasses and yanking her hair into a ponytail. "Just getting dressed." She shoved Dudley's old hoodie over Petunia's old shirt and tried not to think about her appearance. It's not as if there was anyone to impress.

She hurried to the bathroom to brush her teeth, looking in the mirror only long enough to admire her lightning bolt scar and then hurried down to breakfast.

Breakfast was a silent affair, as Vernon was reading the newspaper and Dudley was eating. Joanne enjoyed the silence.

They heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters.

"Get the mail, girl." Vernon grunted from behind his paper.

To Joanne's shock as she sorted the letters she uncovered a letter for her own self.

Miss J. Rowling

The Cupboard Under The Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

"So," Said the Doctor under his breath. "Where have you brought us now?" He patted the TARDIS's control panel fondly and turned to Rose. "Shall we check it out?"

"No, Doctor. Let's stay in the TARDIS and memorize the encyclopedia." Rose said as she pulled on her jacket. "Of course we should go out!" She ran for the door.

"Could be dangerous."

"Excellent."

The two found themselves outside a large and quite pretty stone house. "Not bad," Rose whispered. "whose is it?" She looked over at the Doctor whose face had spread into a fantastic grin. "Well?"

"We're in Edinburgh. This is the house of one Joanne 'JK' Rowling. Heard of her?"

"You're lying."

And they ran up the hill laughing like a couple of fools

Reaching the door, The Doctor pulled out his sonic Screwdriver and pointed it at the knob.

"Wait," Rose interrupted breathlessly. "Shouldn't we knock?"

"Knock?"

"Yeah, this is JK Rowling's house!" Rose said excitedly, knocking. After a minute, she knocked again.

"Now can I sonic in?" The Doctor asked, flipping his screwdriver and pointing it at the door. With a click, the lock opened and they walked inside.

The Doctor turned and lifted his finger to his lips as they walked through the living room, nearly crashing into a Christmas tree.

"Oh. Christmas. That's never a good sign," Rose muttered, edging past the tree.

The Doctor scanned it with his screwdriver. "It's not picking up any signal. Sometimes a tree isn't a remote control weapon. Ah, a calendar. Rose, I am pleasde to tell you it is December 22, 2004. JK finished the sixth book last night. Maybe she'll give us a peak."

"Shut up!" Rose said, slapping his shoulder.

They turned to leave the living room. "No. Something's wrong," the Doctor suddenly said stopping short.

"What?"

"Yes. Exactly. What?" He asked and suddenly he was sniffing around like an oversized puppy. "See, it all looks right," he said quickly. "All couches and fussy tea trays and notebooks and-" he stopped suddenly, "that's not right."

"Hmmm?" Rose asked from where she was flipping through one of Rowling's notebooks.

"This picture. Rose. Rose!" Rose spun around. "Look at this picture." Rose walked over and frowned.

"This is at the premier, right? That's Rupert and Emma. But I don't know who the girl is. And where's Dan?"

"The girl's JK, Rose, as a little girl. And apparently Dan's not in the first movie anymore. Where does she have a copy of the books?"

"They're over here, Doctor." Rose scrambled to the bookshelf and sure enough found five Harry Potter books and _Joanne Rowling and the Philosopher's Stone_.

"Doctor, where's JK?" She asked as he took the book.

"That's a good question," He skimmed through the book. "I'd say she's in a little hut on a little rock and she's due for a visit any second..."

The lighted dial on Dudley's watch told Joanne she'd be eleven in ten minutes.

She lay and wondered whether the Dursleys would remember at all, wondering where the letter writer was now.

Five minutes to go. Joanne heard something creak outside. She hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although she might be warmer if it did. Four minutes to go. Maybe the house in Privet Drive would be so full of letters when they got back that she'd be able to steal one.

Three minutes to go. Was that the sea, slapping hard on the rock likethat? And (two minutes to go) what was that funny crunching noise? Wasthe rock crumbling into the sea?

One minute to go and he'd be eleven. Thirty seconds... twenty ... ten...nine - maybe he'd wake Dudley up, just to annoy him - three... two...one...

BOOM.

The whole shack shivered and Joanne sat bolt upright, staring at thedoor. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake, and with a crah, Uncle Vernon came skidding into the room. He was holding a rifle in his hands.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"

SMASH!

The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.

A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey..."

He strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, yeh great lump," said the stranger.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching, terrified, behind Uncle Vernon.

"An' here's Joanne!" said the giant.

Joanne looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yet dad, but yeh've got yet mom's eyes."

Uncle Vernon made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sit!" he said. "You are breaking and

entering!"

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant; he reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Uncle Vernon's hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and tossed it aside

Uncle Vernon squeaked a little.

"Anyway - Joanne," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here - I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Joanne opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with 'Happy Birthday Joanne' written on it in green icing.

Joanne looked up at the giant. She meant to say thank you, but instead whispered, "Who are you?"

The giant chuckled.

"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."

He held out an enormous hand and shook Joanne's whole arm.

"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together.

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shriveled chip bags in it and he snorted. He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there. It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Joanne felt the warmth wash over her as though she'd sunk into a hot bath.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a kettle, a package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, and several mugs. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. As he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little. Uncle Vernon said sharply, "Don't touch anything he gives you, Dudley."

The giant chuckled darkly. "Yet great puddin' of a son don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry."

He passed the sausages to Joanne, who was so hungry she had never tasted anything so wonderful, but she still couldn't take her eyes off the giant. Finally, as nobody seemed about to explain anything, she said, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."

The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts - yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course.

"Er - no," said Joanne.

Hagrid looked shocked.

"Sorry," Joanne said quickly.

"Sorry?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Dursleys, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yet parents learned it all?"

"All what?" asked Joanne.

"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut.

The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled, "that this girl- knows nothin' - about ANYTHING?"

Joanne thought this was going a bit far. She had been to school, after all, and she did well.

"I know some things," she said. "I can do math and stuff." But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. My world. Yer parents' world."

"What world?"

Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.

"DURSLEY!" he boomed.

Uncle Vernon whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Joanne.

"But yeh must know about yet mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."

"What? My - my mom and dad weren't famous, were they?"

"Yeh really don' know," Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Joanne with a bewildered stare.

"Yeh don' know what yeh are?" he said finally.

"Stop!" Uncle Vernon suddenly commanded. "Stop right there! I forbid you to tell the girl anything!"

Now when Hagrid spoke, he trembled with rage.

"You never told her Dumbledore left fer her? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from her all these years?"

"Kept what from me?" said Joanne eagerly.

"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

"Ah, go boil yet head," said Hagrid. "Joanne - yer a witch."

"Yes, but where is she really?" Rose asked.

"I think we'd better find that out. This way." He led her down a hallway to a door. "Here we are. The room where the magic happens." He opened the door.

Inside, a woman with blonde hair sat with her head resting on an open notebook. In her hand she clutched a pen.

"Hello JK," The Doctor whispered, taking a step closer.

"is she sleeping?" Rose asked, circling around.

"Not quite. No. Unfortunately not."

JK Rowling was not just lying on the book. Somehow, her face had become sucked into it and the words had crawled up her skin.

"What's doing it? Is the book some sort of alien you've never mentioned?"

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous." The Doctor said, poking it with his screwdriver. "It's running off her own imagination or something." He scanned her up and down with it, shook it and then scanned the book. "Oh, this is awkward," he said sullenly.

"What is?" Rose asked, studying the words on JK's face.

"Well it's just that now she'll never write the seventh book and I've already read it. I hate paradoxes!"

"Fix this," Rose said suddenly, looking up.

"What?" The Doctor asked vaguely.

"Fix. It. You will fix it because I just read the sixth book and Dumbledore's dead and I need to know what's going to happen. So you are going to fix this, Doctor."

"I can just tell you-"

"No. Don't you dare. Don't even think about it. Just fix it. Use your sonic screwdriver and put things right," she said severely.

"Okay, right. Fix," He flipped his screwdriver dramatically, spun around, pointed it at Rose and said, "I have no clue how to do that."

"Well then, you better figure it out."

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door

read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay

on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. Joanne felt strangely as though she had entered a very strict library; she swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to her and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Joanne jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Joanne awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Joanne Rowling." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Joanne. Joanne wished he would blink. Those eyes were a bit creepy.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Joanne were almost nose to nose. Joanne could see herself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Joanne's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then, to Joanne's relief, spotted Hagrid.

"Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.

"Er - yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet.

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now- Miss. Rowling. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er - well, I'm right-handed," said Joanne.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Joanne from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head.

Joanne suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between her nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -"

Joanne tried - buts he had hardly raised the wand when it, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.

"No, no -here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Joanne tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the

spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - - yes, why not - unusual combination -holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Joanne took the wand. She felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. She raised the wand above her head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... "

He put Joanne's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..

"Sorry," said Joanne, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Joanne with his pale stare.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss Rowling. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar."

Joanne swallowed.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Miss Rowling... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things - terrible, yes, but great."

Joanne shivered.


	2. Into the Story book

**Last night:**

Jo reread the final draft happily. Sometimes she want sure how she did it.

In her mind, hundreds of details were already organizing themselves for the seventh book. Little things she had planted as far back as the first book would be recalled there...

It had been a long time since that first book and so much had changed.

She laughed at herself, realizing that she had just read an entire chapter without taking in a single word.

She went back and reread. She apologized to Dumbledore as she reached his death scene, cringing as he plunged to his death. It was one of the hardest things for her, letting go of a character. And there would be so many more...

She laughed as she noticed again that she had gotten distracted. With a glance at the clock, she confirmed what her brain was trying to tell her. It was far too late.

"Just a few more chapters," she told herself. "Then I'll go to bed." But with each page, her head got closer and closer to the pages until with a sigh she fell into dreams, pen still clutched in her hand.

* * *

Back in the TARDIS, the Doctor was rummaging through a big mess of cables.

"What are you doing?" Rose asked from where she was sitting, reading a notebook.

"I Ayin oo aye omeen."

"What?" She said, looking up. Then, spotting the cables in his mouth, she sighed. "Without the cable."

He pulled the cable out of his mouth and said, "I'm trying to find something. A specific cable."

"What does it look like?"

"'Zeh ah wiwee"

"Without the cable, Doctor."

"It's red. And wibbly."

"What does wibbly look like?" Rose asked, coming to sit across from the Doctor.

"Ah!" He cried leaping to his feet and dropping everything but a coiled red cable. "The wibbly red cable. Now to just get inside." He slammed down two levers and twisted a knob.

"Where are we going?" Rose shouted over the whooshing of the TARDIS. "I thought-"

"Just inside." The Doctor hooked the first clip of the red cord to the TARDIS's control panel "Catch," he called, tossing another end to Rose. "Hook it to that Blue piece. To the right." He turned and ran out the door into Rowling's study. He carefully clipped the last two ends to either side of the book.

"Here's hoping this works," he said stepping back onto the TARDIS and hitting the levers again. "Hold on tight. This is insane even by my standards!"

* * *

"Want a hand?" It was one of the red-haired twins she'd followed through the barrier.

"Yes, please," Joanne panted.

"Oy, Fred! C'mere and help!"

With the twins' help, Joanne's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

"Thanks," said Joanne, pushing her sweaty hair out of her eyes.

"What's that?" said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Joanne's lightning scar.

"Blimey," said the other twin. "Are you-"

"She is," said the first twin. "Aren't you?" he added to Joanne.

"What?" said Joanne.

"Joanne Rowling, "chorused the twins.

"Oh, her," said Joanne. "I mean, yes, I am."

The two boys gawked at her, and Joanne felt herself turning red. Then, to her relief, a voice came floating in through the train's open door.

"Fred? George? Are you there?"

"Coming, Mom."

* * *

As the train left the station, the door of the compartment slid open and the youngest redheaded boy came in.

"Anyone sitting there?" he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Joanne. "Everywhere else is full."

Joanne shook her head and the boy sat down. He glanced at Joanne and then looked quickly out of the window, pretending he hadn't looked.

"Hey, Ron."

The twins were back.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train - Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron.

"Joanne," said the other twin, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Bye," said Joanne and Ron. The twins slid the compartment door shut behind them.

"Are you really Joanne Rowling?" Ron blurted out.

Joanne nodded.

"Oh -well, I thought it might be one of Fred and George's jokes," said

Ron. "And have you really got - you know..."

He pointed at Joanne's forehead.

Joanne pulled back her bangs to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.

"So that's where You-Know-Who-"

"Yes," said Joanne, "but I can't remember it."

"Wow," said Ron. He sat and stared at Joanne for a few moments, then, he looked quickly out of the window again.

"Are all your family wizards?" asked Joanne, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found her.

"Er - Yes, I think so," said Ron.

"So you must know loads of magic already."

"I heard you went to live with Muggles," said Ron. "What are they like?"

"Horrible. Wish I'd had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron, looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. Bill and Charlie have already left - Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of Quidditch. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Joanne didn't think there was anything wrong with all that. After all, he'd never had any money in his life until a month ago, and he told Ron so, all about having to wear Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. This seemed to cheer Ron up.

"... and until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort"

Ron gasped.

"What?" said Joanne.

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed. "I'd have thought you, of all people -"

"I'm not trying to be brave or anything, saying the name," said Joanne, I just never knew you shouldn't. See what I mean? I've got loads to learn... I bet," he added, voicing for the first time something that had been worrying him a lot lately, "I bet I'm the worst in the class."

"You won't be. There's loads of people who come from Muggle families and they learn quick enough."

Around half past twelve, a dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Joanne, who hadn't had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, but Ron's ears went pink again and he muttered that he'd brought sandwiches. Joanne went out into the corridor.

She had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and now that she had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as much as she could carry. She came bag with handfuls of Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties and a number of other strange things Joanne had never seen in her life. Ron stared as Joanne brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," said Joanne, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. Then she passed one to Ron "Go on, have a pasty," said Joanne, who had never had anything to share before. It was a nice feeling, sitting there with Ron, eating all Joanne's pasties, cakes, and candies.

"What are these?" Joanne asked Ron, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. "They're not really frogs, are they?"

"No," said Ron. "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?"

"Oh, of course, you wouldn't know - Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect - famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

Joanne unwrapped her Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man's face. He wore half- moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair and beard.

"So this is Dumbledore!" said Joanne.

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron. "Can I have a frog? Thanks"

Joanne turned over her card and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

FORMER HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel.

Joanne stared as Dumbledore shifted in his picture and gave her a small smile.

The compartment door slid open and a girl walked in. "Has anyone seen a toad?" She asked "Neville's lost one."

"Don't know why he's so bothered," said Ron. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could." The, turning to Joanne he added, "Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on Ron's lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron in disgust. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..."

He rummaged around in his trunk and pulled out a very battered-looking wand.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway-"

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then."

The girl sat down. Ron looked taken aback.

"Er - all right."

He cleared his throat.

"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." He waved his wand, but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed gray and fast asleep.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" said the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic, it was such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was pleased, of course, I mean, it's the best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you.

She said all this very fast. Joanne looked at Ron, and was relieved to see by his stunned face that he hadn't learned all the course books by heart either.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Joanne Rowling," said Joanne.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books. For background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.

"Am I?" said Joanne, feeling dazed.

"Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione. "Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."

And she left.


	3. Professor Tyler

The TARDIS jerked and shook before crashing to a halt. Rose pulled herself from the floor and looked at the Doctor who was clutching the control panel.

"Where are we?" She asked, rubbing her back.

The Doctor pulled over a screen and, with a big smile, said "Why don't you go out and check?"

Rose ran to the TARDIS door and flung it open. "It's Hogwarts! We're at Hogwarts! It worked!" She ran out, towards the castle. Then she turned and ran back.

"Doctor, how are we going in? We can't just waltz in. We don't belong."

"Actually," the Doctor said fixing his jacket, "I think we can just walk in. The story stuck J.K. in. I bet it does the same for us." He headed to the door and grabbed her hand.

"Allons-y!" He yelled taking off down the hill, dragging her along.

As they approached the double doors, they noticed Professor Flitwick looking out nervously. When he saw them, a look of profound relief crossed his face.

"Professor Doctor!" He squeaked. "Everyone in the great hall is waiting for you!

And Professor Tyler, the first years!"

Rose and the Doctor met each other's eyes and Rose burst out laughing.

"Professor Tyler?" Flitwick asked with a look of suppressed shock.

"We'll be in in just a minute." The Doctor said with a grin.

Flitwick headed through the double doors, his eyebrows way up in his hairline.

"Professor Doctor?" Rose giggled. "Who are you supposed to be?"

"I think I might just be headmaster," The Doctor said with a huge grin.

"You're pleased!" Rose exclaimed, still laughing. "You're just a great, big fanboy, Timelord or not."

"I love Harry Potter," he said almost indignantly, but still grinning. "But Professor Tyler, you forgot to ask. I think you're Professor

McGonagall."

Rose danced a little in place and cheered. "Let's go in!"

They pushed through the double doors and Rose whispered, "We're in Hogwarts!"

"I think that's where the first years are," the Doctor said. "See you later." And with that he practically skipped off to the Great Hall.

"Wait!" Rose called after him. "I don't know what to say!"

"Wing it," the Doctor called back.

"You've read the books." And with that he disappeared through the doors.

With a fortifying breath, Rose stepped into the small room.

Suppressing a giddy laugh, Rose looked around at the eleven year olds. She immediately spotted Draco and Ron- their hair stood out. Then she excitedly looked around at Hermione,

Blaise, Neville, Pansy, Dean, Lavender and Seamus.

She bit her lip to regain composure and said "um- hi. Welcome to Hogwarts. I'm going to take you to be sorted. "Then she cut herself off. "Wait. Not yet. First the ghosts come, right?

Wait. I wasn't supposed to say that. I'll be back. Bye."

She quickly stepped back into the hallway and slumped against the door.

"Here, Professor," a squeaky voice said beside her.

Rose looked down and saw a house elf wearing what looked like a piece of someone's sleeve. S/he was holding a three legged stool and a battered hat.

"Thank you," she said taking them. Then she walked back into the small room.

"Okay, it's time. Follow me," she said. She headed off towards the Great Hall. Suddenly she stopped and spun around. Beside Ron, she saw a girl with messy, blonde hair and bangs that stuck up in every direction. Under the bangs, she could see a small part of the lightning bolt scar.

Noticing the first years confused look, she turned and continued on to the Great Hall.


End file.
